A Wish Too Young
by AnomalousWriter
Summary: After a check fraud bust, Carl and Frank along with other agents go out to celebrate. But when Agent Carl Hanratty is greeted by a ghost offering a potion to make him feel better, he gets more then what he bargained for. - A Slash Carl & Frank Pairing.
1. Chapter 1

**A WISH TOO YOUNG**

**CHAPTER 1**

**CHRISTMAS EVE**

Hiding behind a wall in a closed toy factory, Agent Carl Hanratty held his gun in the air. Ready to aim at any moment that asked for it. Aiming the gun out in the open, he stepped away from the wall. In a snap a bullet was fired somewhere around the factory. Shooting straight towards him. Ducking to the ground the agent looked around his surroundings from the floor.

"Carl!" A man yelled. His name echoing across the empty warehouse. With running footsteps he had no awareness just where they were coming from until a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders to get up. Standing up in a struggle he jerked his body back and forth to try and get rid of the stranger's hold.

"Easy, easy!" The same voice reasoned. Releasing his hold Carl shrugged his suit and looked to see just who it was that picked him up from off the floor.

"Frank!" He exclaimed. Relieved that the young man was alright. The celebration was cut short. For another shot bellowed throughout the building. Taking the lead, Frank ran towards the storage room with the agent not far behind.

Only half way across the storage room did one of the criminals they were trying to chase tackled Frank. Both rolling onto the ground as a struggling fight began.

"Freeze! Hands in the air!" Mr. Fox shouted at the criminals. No sooner or later he was followed by 15 F. B. I. agents. Now against the 7 crooks, each one had the same expression on their faces. The expression of being caught.

Yanking a hold of the criminal that held Frank on the ground, Mr. Amdursky held the criminal's hands behind the man's own back.

* * *

**2 HOURS LATER**

"I mean did you see how scared that one guy was? The one who leaped on me?" Frank laughed. Followed by the table of agents that did the same.

"Yeah," Mr. Amdursky chuckled. "I swear when I grabbed him, he was going to shit his pants right there!" He laughed. Grabbing a sip of his beer.

"You got to admit, if it weren't for Mr. Abagnale; those checks for that cocaine bust would have been a disaster!" Mr. Fox exclaimed.

"Yeah!" Mr. Amdursky yelled. Clapping his hands in the process. Soon the whole table joined.

"Thanks," Frank nodded with a smile. "But it was more of Carl's help. Am I right?" He asked the table. All nodding in response.

"Speaking of which, where is that emotionless bird?" Mr. Amdursky asked with his beer bottle hovering over his lips.

"_Emotionless bird_?" Mr. Fox cackled.

* * *

Walking out of the stall, Carl walked over to the sink in front of him. Turning the water on, he dipped his hands into the sink when suddenly another man walked into the room. He was about Frank's own age. But more thin in frame. The young man appeared to be wearing a brown jacket and slacks. As hat wear was an old black fedora. So old it looked to have been patched in some areas. For the agent himself, he payed no mind to the kid until he turned to look back at him.

"You're Carl Hanratty, aren't you?" The young man asked with a mild tilt of his head. Looking up from the sink, the man in speaking looked up to see in the mirror a young man standing in the middle of the restroom.

"Do I know you?" Carl asked.

"No," The young man replied. "But I know you." Turning off the sink, Carl went over to the towels and wiped the water from his hands. Reaching for the door, he was just about to make his leave when the young stranger was all of the sudden in the middle of him and the door.

"Where are you going?" He questioned.

Carl gasped.

With a tilt of his head, the young man just stared at him. Putting out his hand between the distance they shared, he smiled. "Thomas Myrtle,"

Without warning Thomas was no longer in front of him but now behind Carl as he grabbed the man's neck and shoved him against the wall. The most unusual thing about it was the grip and the slam did not hurt.

"Here!" He smiled. Holding out a small black corked bottle while there was an unnamed glint in the young man's eye.

"Take it. This will make you feel better," Thomas informed the agent as he released his grip on the man. Landing on his feet, Carl almost slipped against the wall if it weren't for the stranger suddenly standing beside him to the direction he almost slipped down to.

Backing away from the young man, the older man's eyes were wide for many reasons. "Are you some type of ghost?" He asked with a shaken voice.

Immediately Thomas came zooming up to the agent, placing a see through hand over Carl's mouth.

"Shh!" He harshly whispered. "Don't let them hear you!" The young man fearfully ordered.

Looking at him with a baffled expression, the ghost eyed him.

"Oh!" He exhaled. Smoked breath immediately melting into Carl's face.

"There's these guys, right? They know who I am but when I am actually there, they don't know I exist. But if someone else speaks about me, I'm endangered. Keep that under your sleeve cause you're not suppose to know that." Releasing his hand over the agent's mouth, the older man looked at him in bewilderment.

"What do you mean _they_? Who is _they_?" Carl asked. Suddenly growing scared.

Glaring at the agent, Thomas huffed in frustration. "Go easy on me Carl. I'm not suppose to tell people this much! They go by Grim Demons. So hush, hush."

"Look, I don't know what in god's name-" Was all he could speak as suddenly Thomas disappeared by the sound of the restroom entrance opening.

"Hey Carl," Frank greeted. Seeing the man standing by the farthest wall with a strange expression on his face. "We're just about to leave." Walking near his boss with his hands in his pockets, he stood there looking at him in concern. "You alright?" He forwarded his brows.

"Yeah," He replied. "I'm alright. It's just there was this...forget about it. It was nothing." Carl replied. With a raised eyebrow, Frank tried to study the older man to make sure nothing _was_ wrong.

"Hey Carl, Frank!" Mr. Amdursky said. The sound of his voice brought their attention to his presence at the door. "Let's go home before Christmas Day strikes." As Frank began walking nearer to the door, he looked back to see Carl was not following.

To what stopped the agent was the sudden feel of cold glass being wrapped in his fingers.

In his right hand there was that same bottle Thomas had just offered him.

"What's that?" Frank asked. Looking at the older man's hand.

"It's nothing," Carl said. Stuffing the bottle into his pocket so it wouldn't look like he just randomly picked it up from this room.

* * *

Sitting at his bedside ready for the night, there sat on his night stand the same black bottle Thomas Myrtle gave him. Those ghost's words still echoed in his mind on what it was. But how was it suppose to make him feel better? The more he looked at it the more questions started to rise. What in god's name was his reason to find him? How did Thomas know him in the first place? What did Thomas mean? He didn't feel sad or mad lately. Things were pretty good considering the criminals they just caught. That's why they were there in the first place at the bar. To celebrate.

Picking up the bottle, he examined the object. There were no labels. Not even a bar code. Popping the cork off immediately a strong sent came out. He coughed to the side. It wasn't a bad smell but a sour tang held its contents. Looking inside the bottle he became scared as the liquid was glowing with a bright green and deep purple. Colors he had never seen before.

Thinking very hard, he went over the possibilities to what this was. Or even the fact to what this could bring. He had a good job. Brought money and food to the table. When he was given a task he would finished it. But...Was that all that was good? He had Frank. The kid was a good friend. Over the years he was like a son to him.

The more he thought about it, the less encouraging facts appeared. Once he had a family. Once. His ex wife now was married and happy without him. His daughter barely even knew he was alive.

That's probably what Thomas meant by knowing him. From the looks of it, the ghost looked like he had been dead for a while. Probably as long as he himself has been alive. If that was true, what could the ghost tell him? Or was he after something else from him?

This was ridiculous. Grabbing the cork he pressed it back into the bottle. He next took off his glasses in one hand and placed both glassed objects back onto the night stand. Getting under the covers, he switched the lamp light off and lied down.

Minutes passed and the same questions kept running through his mind. Should he take it? Leaning up in his bed, he looked at the bottle once again. There was no need for the lamp. For the moon light glistening on the bottle could assist him to see it crystal clear through the dark.

Picking up the bottle for the final time that night, he uncorked the container once again. Tilting his head back, he downed the liquid in one gulp. Before he could even put the bottle back he suddenly collapsed back onto his pillow.

* * *

**THE MORNING OF CHRISTMAS**

Stirring in his sleep, Carl turned onto his back. God what a dream that was last night. The most strangest he has had in a while. A ghost was in it for Christ's sake. Talking to him about this bottle or something. Not bothering to open his eyes, he grabbed his glasses on his night stand. Placing the frames behind his ears he opened his eyes to see fogged lenses.

Forwarding his brows, he took them off to clean them. But the moment he slipped them off his eyes they became clearer. Holding the glasses he saw that they were clean. Looking off in the distance to his dresser, there it was crystal clear.

Placing the glasses down back on the night stand he got up from his bed to use the restroom. The moment he stood his boxers fell.

Carl gasped. Looking at the ground, he picked them up when he sighted the black bottle. Eyes widening he pretended he didn't even sight the container until his boxers didn't even stay on his waist. Letting the boxers slip, he was feeling his way around his stomach area when he suddenly felt abs instead of his chubby fat.

"Shit!" He whispered. Gasping yet again by the sound of his voice. "Shit!" He yelled.

Gripping his boxers around his waist, he speedily walked over to the hall bathroom. As he entered the room and looked into the mirror, Carl couldn't believe what he saw. There standing in front of the mirror was him but by far not. His hair was no longer the short cut but now thickly curled. His facial features were thinner, even in his undershirt and what was left of his boxers showed a lean muscular frame.

"Fuck I'm 30 again," Carl whispered. To make matters worse the doorbell rang. His reflection's jaw dropping immediately. He forgot about Frank! That was right! Christmas mornings they would eat here for breakfast! Shit! Running into the living room, Frank began to knock.

"Carl!" Frank called. "You there?"

Staring off in the distance with uncertainty, he looked back at the door. "Yeah just a second!"

Running back to his bedroom, he grabbed the first pair of pants he could find. Pulling them even just up to his mid thigh, he could tell they were too big. Running over to his closet, he searched and searched until an idea struck him. Reaching for the clothes right in the back of the closet, he looked at the pants regretfully but did what he could do.

Walking back out to the his apartment's front door, he grabbed the handle turning it very slowly.

"Carl?" Frank asked on the other side.

"Yes?" The agent replied.

"Are you alright?" Obvious concern in his voice. "You sound...different."

"I'm fine, honest." Carl said. The last part not very convincing. Even if it was, Frank would still beat him to it.

"Carl, let go of the doorknob, I'll come in myself." Frank said.

"Um..I wouldn't do that." The agent replied. Not knowing what to do.

"Carl," Frank frustratingly sighed.

In response to the young man's mood, Carl tried to back away but still held the doorknob.

"Carl," Frank stated. Grabbing the doorknob himself without waiting for Carl to let go. "Open the god damn-" He began to say. Letting go in straight fear, the door was opened. Once both of each other were in plain sight Frank's eyes widened.

Standing there in nothing but white slacks and a white undershirt, including the fact that Agent Carl Hanratty was suddenly younger and not wearing glasses brought Frank to gawk at him.

"Okay," The agent began. "You're not going to believe me, but-"

"Carl?" Frank suddenly asked in bewilderment.

"Yes it's me," Carl tried to presume.

"It can't be!" The young man exclaimed.

"It is!" Carl protested.

"No you're not!" Frank yelled.

"Yes I am damn it! Don't tell me who I am or who I'm not!" Carl yelled. Anger rising in his voice to the point where it made it hoarse and low. Revelation dawned in the criminal's eyes. For just in that sentence alone made Carl's voice actually sound like the voice Frank knew.

"What happened?" Frank asked.

Carl sighed. Looking like he had been fooled. "Why don't you come in and sit down? I'll tell you."

* * *

"So," Carl said. Resting his inner hand under his chin. "The moment I drunk the bottle I collapsed and...yeah." He trailed. Looking at Frank on the edge of the couch across from him. "You don't believe me do you?"

Frank scoffed a nervous laugh. "I don't know what to believe right now. But if you say that's what happened then I guess that has to be the case."

"Frank, I've only lied to you a few times since I've known you." Carl replied.

Standing up from his seat, the young criminal walked over to where Carl sat. "Prove it."

"What?" Carl asked. Slightly backing up into his armrest chair.

"Prove it," Frank repeated as he placed his hands in his pockets. "I want to see that bottle, even the _things _it has done to you."

Standing up from his chair it was no mistake that Carl could now stand half a foot taller then Frank. "Do you really want to know?" He gritted. "I mean, if I can't have one of my best friends believe me, then what can make you believe?" The agent asked.

"Look at me!" He gestured his hands to himself. "This is not a joke!" Taking off his shirt, he revealed his toned chest. Immediately Frank's widened eyes went straight to his torso. "I mean there's no make up on me. I literally just got out of bed and-"

"Carl," Frank interrupted.

"What?" The older man asked. In this case, what was old for him?

"I think you need to go look in the mirror," The criminal reasoned. With forwarded brows, he walked back to the hall restroom with Frank following.

"Ah!" Carl yelped. Right at that exact moment, Carl's chest hairs were falling off. Leaving behind his smooth chest.

"Carl," Frank brought to his attention as they stared at each other through the mirror. "What's happening to you?"

"Regrettably, I have no idea." The agent replied. Both looking away from the mirror and back at each other.

* * *

**THE NEXT DAY**

During Christmas, Carl and Frank still had plans for their morning breakfast. But for the weirdest occasion. Mostly to cope with the fact that there was no way to resolve this _curse. _Even so with the awareness of what else was about to happen. It all happened so fast that Carl wasn't able to think about it hard enough until the Christmas break was over.

Surprisingly Frank took everything in charge for the most part. Since all of his wardrobe was nothing but clown wear, they had to think of something else and fast. Going to the tailor that morning after Christmas, Frank traded in all of Carl's clothes for newly fit ones. They were all still the same clothes he wore. Just the fact everything needed to be 2 sizes smaller.

Being an F. B. I. Agent, he had to do it fast. Work was just the day after Christmas. Making it so even Frank sensed Carl's anxiety. Asking the tailor for only one outfit for the day, Frank drove back to Carl's home and immediately shoved the business wear into his face. The good thing was the slacks and button up fit. The bad thing was just how to get Carl there without everything calling for security.

As they sat in the car just outside of the F. B. I. head quarters, Carl immediately tensed as the car was switched off.

Looking at his boss, Frank frowned.

"Come on Carl, we just need to tell Mr. Marsh what has happened and maybe he will believe us." Frank tried to comfort.

Carl immediately nervously chuckled at the word 'maybe'. "Frank there is one thing to know about Mr. Marsh and that is he doesn't take jokes wisely. Even just truthful subjects that look like a joke, he doesn't believe you."

Frank sighed in defeat. "Carl just relax and act like nothing happened in the first place." Opening the door to the car, Frank got up to leave.

"Easy for you to say," Carl whispered to himself as he too began to get out of the car.

* * *

Nearing the front doors, Carl and Frank pulled out their badges. The two front guards greeted both of them with a nod. Each one of them was able to pass by but not without a suspicious glare from both guards that were directed at the agent. Walking closer to their department, the agent's hands began to fidget. He was just about to turn and walk back down the hall when Frank caught him to it.

"No! Carl," He warned as quietly and controlled as possible to not distract other employees. "You're going to be fine." The young man whispered.

"This is not okay! Admit it!" The agent harshly whispered back. Both now silent as a woman walking by looked at them in suspicion.

Out of her earshot, they continued their argument. "What am I suppose to do after we tell him? He can't just automatically call over the phone to the whole department saying _Agent Carl Hanratty just took an unknown substance that made him 17 years younge_r!"

"That's what rumors are for," Frank reasoned. Causing him to be treated with a glare.

Frank sighed in frustration. "Carl, if it makes you feel any better, you're not helping. I'm trying to help you the best way I-"

"Hey Mr. Abagnale!" Mr. Amdursky hollered across the hall.

"Shit!" Both men cursed. Walking between the short distance to Carl and Frank, Mr. Amdursky was just about in sight of them when suddenly Frank kicked Carl in the shin while _accidentally _knocking off the man's hat. Almost shouting in pain, Carl bent over from the sudden shift of events.

Frank then looked down at Carl just enough to have him hear his whispers. "Pretend you just dropped your hat and put it back on to the point where its over your eyes!"

"Thanks for the _heads up_!" Carl grunted back.

As Mr. Ambursky neared the both of them, Carl had already stood straight up again. Taking Frank's request, he placed the hat down as far as it could go.

"How are you this morning?" Mr. Amdursky asked.

"Doing good," Frank nodded.

"Who's this?" The blond agent asked. Looking at the person in speaking that stood by Frank.

"Oh, this is _Mr. Peterson_." Frank lied as he looked back and forth to the agents. Holding out his arm, Carl and Mr. Amdursky shook hands.

"Pleasure to meet you Mr. Peterson," The blonde mildly smiled. Trying to look at the man in the eye but the hat making it impossible.

"Say uh, have you seen your boss?" Mr. Ambursky questioned.

Forwarding his brows, Frank played along. "No I haven't seen him. Was he suppose to do an important task?"

"If you call it that." Mr. Amdursky chuckled. "Mr. Marsh was requesting to see him 2 days ago but since it was the holidays they had to cancel."

"Oh," Frank awed. "Well I'll let him know we talked." With a goodbye nod, Mr. Amdursky began to head down the hall way.

"See you later Mr. Amdrusky," Frank big a farewell.

"See yeah," The blond replied.

Out of earshot once again, Carl lifted up his hat to see.

"Well that's a relief you at least have to go see him." Frank said.

"Yeah, but I can't believe I forgot about that." Carl said.

"Depending on this situation you're in, I think you're allowed to." Frank replied. Causing another nervous chuckle to pass the agent's lips.

* * *

Walking through the department, almost immediately people began to look at Frank and _Mr. Peterson_. Reaching Mr. Marsh's office, Frank knocked on the door.

"Come in," Mr. Marsh replied on the other side. Opening the door, Mr. Marsh was sitting at his desk when he looked up to see just whom it was.

"Mr. Abagnale," The man greeted. Looking to the side at Carl with mild wonderment. "May I help you?"

"Yes, Mr. Marsh we uh-"

"Frank," Carl said. Looking at the criminal in the eye.

"You look very familiar there, Mr...?" Mr. Marsh trailed.

"Peterson," Frank said.

"Mr. Peterson," Mr. Marsh fully said. "You look almost exactly like one of my agents."

"I'm sure he does," Frank replied.

"Gentlemen," Carl brought to their attention. Taking off his hat, he looked at them both with a serious stare. "That's because I am Agent Carl Hanratty."

Confusion immediately was written on Mr. Marsh's face as he looked back to Frank and Carl.

"Here," Carl stated. Pulling out his badge. As the person in the badge was resembled to the person standing in front of him, Mr. Marsh looked at the agent, shocked.

"Sir do you believe in the supernatural?" Carl asked. "Or any involvement of ghosts at all?"

"Thomas Myrtle." Mr. Marsh muttered.

All eyes slightly widening by the information. Looking at Mr. Marsh to encourage him to tell more of what he knew, he responded by handing back Carl's badge.

"You might want to get that renewed." The Assistant Director advised. Looking at Carl and back at Mr. Marsh, both the men standing were wondering the exact same thing.

"Re-renewed, sir?" Frank asked.

With one nod in their direction he got up from his chair. "I'm sorry to tell you this Agent Carl Hanratty. But the liquid you gulped is permanent."

_To Be Continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

**A WISH TOO YOUNG**

**CHAPTER 2**

**LATER THAT DAY**

It came to be a shock that Carl wouldn't be able to be turned back to his usual age. Making the drama only begin from there. Apparently Thomas Myrtle was a ghost from war. The way he died was still unknown. No _victim _of Thomas Myrtle was informed about his past life. Not even information held about his clothes said anything. It was obvious the ghost picked them up along the way.

The so called 'Grim Demons' were other ghosts that would look for him. All part of a cooperation where ghost hunters and clergies alike would hire them to search for his kind called 'Wishers'. He and the other Wishers were no threat to the living world. But no matter how innocent he was, they were not going to allow these potion mishaps. It only lead to more questions to whether or not he was just after Carl to use him. The most troublesome motive was how the department could handle it. Not only the FBI was informed. But the CSI, CIA, Military, and other top secret agencies were only making matters worse.

So sitting in his apartment, he tried to go through his daily routine. Denying the accompany of body guards. He went about eating dinner, reading the paper, then off to bed. But all that was ruined. Before he knew it, he looked up to see the Wisher standing by his fridge.

"Jesus!" He cursed. Holding the newspaper to his chest.

"Evening to you too Carl!" The ghost grinned. "To what be new?"

"Your aftermath, that's what!" The agent yelled.

Forwarding his brows, Thomas was now standing right beside Carl's right ear. "Listen," He began. "I know you're mad at me for offering you that potion. But you got to remember it was only your decision that made you do so."

"Oh come off it Thomas!" Carl protested. Slamming the newspaper onto the table. "The whole world is looking for you. If its going to be anyone's fault it certainly will be yours!" Sitting up from his chair, he walked into the living room. Trying to retreat from the 'man' who was ruining his life. Sitting down in his chair, Thomas immediately followed.

"Now you're just overreacting." Thomas commented. Sitting down on the couch across from him. "What? Do you have a delayed reaction or something?"

"That's not the reason." Carl gritted out.

"Lets see," Thomas began. "What could be the reason?" He asked the living man with a finger tapping his chin. "Well when I met you at the bar you were 47 years old. Now you're 30." The ghost grinned in amusement.

"Thomas this isn't funny. You have risked not only my well being but the cycle of my life." Carl frowned. Standing up, he stood in the middle of the living room.

"Now your just showing me you want to know what _I think, _by staying in here." Thomas said in annoyance.

"I don't want to know. I have to. Besides, this is my house. I can do whatever I please." The agent stated.

"Alright, well why don't you ask me something?" The ghost replied.

"Ask you what?" Carl asked.

"My age maybe?" Thomas suggested.

"I don't have to. I can already tell you're 16." Carl said.

"Close," Thomas said. Resting his arms over his head as Carl had his back turned to him.

"I'm 187." With stiffened shoulders, Carl look backed at him with wide eyes.

"You're what?" Carl asked in bewilderment.

"I'm 187 years old. Well I died at 16, you are right there. Kind of the same age when you met Frank, correct?" The ghost asked.

"How do you know about him?" Carl asked with forwarded brows.

"Well I don't know much about him. Some of your memories just have his name written on them you could say." Thomas said.

The agent shook his head in disbelief. "You can read my memories?"

"Yeah, all kinds!" Thomas nodded. "But I don't wonder around in there too much. I mostly focus on personal lives. Not the lives of others." Carl glared warningly at that point.

"What?" Thomas asked. Feeling the man's anger rising.

"You wouldn't mention him if you didn't have a good reason to." Carl eyed him.

"What do you mean? Isn't he your lover?" The ghost asked.

With widened eyes, Carl stiffened. "What?" He shouted.

"I just assumed. You have a lot of memories with him. Plus you seem very fond of each others company." The ghost grinned nervously.

"Shut up Thomas!" The agent growled.

"Oh wait! He's your sexless lover, yes?" The ghost smiled.

"Get out!" Carl demanded. Now standing in front of the couch.

"Calm down you maddening bird! I have something to inform you about him!" The ghost rushed out.

"Is that why you're here in the first place?" Carl asked. Disbelief still effecting his mood.

"Yes. It took some good work to find your home so don't kick me out so soon!" Thomas protested.

"Fine! What is it?" Carl barked.

"There's a ghost named Laramie and you need to make sure you keep Frank close to you at all costs." Thomas calmly said.

At this information, Carl became serious. "At all costs? What do you mean?"

"Oh boy. This would have been so less embarrassing if you two were lovers." Thomas groaned disappointingly.

Paying no attention to Thomas's last comment, he stepped closer to the ghost. "Who's Laramie? I thought it was just you who was effecting my life."

Thomas shook his head. "Laramie is my best friend. He died in the same place I did. He's a trickster ghost. Barely was sane when he was alive. So you could say he's more insane dead. Some cases he has killed some people. I have tried to tell him to stop but when I'm doing my own helpings to people who are alive, he tries to get their friends or even family. He uses them as his experiments."

"You're serious?" Carl asked. Disbelief edging his voice.

"I'm sorry Carl but I am." Thomas replied.

"Well where is Laramie now? Don't you ghosts sense where the other one is or not?" The agent urgently asked.

With widened eyes, Thomas looked at him with strict facial features. "He's there already." Getting up from the couch, he followed Carl who grabbed his keys and ran out the door.

"I can't follow you or he will swallow me with his powers!" Thomas rushed out.

"Just stay here then!" Carl hollered back. As Carl kept running to the end of the hall, Thomas stopped to watch him.

"Carl be careful! He has followers!" Thomas shouted.

* * *

Driving up to Frank's apartment building, already he could sense that there was something terribly wrong. Locking his car, he immediately ran to the front entrance. The problem was Frank's apartment was on the top floor. This was only the 12th. Running to the stairs, he climbed them as fast as he could.

For some odd reason his knees were painless as he climbed. His complaints were soundless about the situation he was in. Almost as if he was on auto pilot, he wanted to get up there. One could say it was his main goal for his new life.

Each staircase he went up on, the ceiling's lights would flicker even more worse then the ones before. Right when he got to the top floor, the entire story was dark. Gulping in fear he began to walk as steadily through the halls as possible.

Frank's door was even at the end of the hall. Just barely in the middle of the room, something crashed behind him. A retching laugh followed in its wake. From the sounds of it, only more crashes and laughs began to endure. Some crashes even sounding like someone was running into a wall. Over and over again.

Carl only began to realize he had began running from the sounds as he reached the end of the hall. Turning his frame, he opened Frank's front door. All the sounds around him went out.

Standing there in the middle of the door frame long enough to realize what was happening, he stepped inside. The door immediately slamming shut behind him without his will.

"Frank!" He called out.

Silence was given back. Walking more into Frank's home, he stopped in his tracks.

"Laramie!" Immediately the lights frequently began to turn on and off. Screams and laughs ringing in his ears. Even the sounds of missals and bombs bellowed around his entire body.

There standing to his right by the window was Laramie himself. He could tell it was him. Just that feeling swept him. No other ghosts were showing themselves. Only he was.

The ghost appeared older then Thomas. Even thinner then him. One could compare him to a walking skeleton with eyeballs in its skull. But there was no time to think or care about him. All that was on his mind was Frank and his safety. As if a race, Carl and Laramie ran down the hall and into the young man's bedroom.

"Frank!" The agent desperately called. There in the far corner of the room stood the man in complete fright. He was practically huddled against the wall. Trying to not be touched by this madness. Running across the room, he almost reached Frank until he felt something tug and drag him to the ground. The young man watched in terror as the ghost from before stood in the doorway and began dragging Carl nearer to him with a ghostly rope.

"Laramie you fucking bastard! Stop it!" Carl shouted at the top of his lungs. The skeleton had almost began to drag Carl across the room. If it weren't for the grasp Carl felt surround his hand. Looking up he saw Frank holding onto him for dear life. Kicking as hard as he could, both of them began to desperately get Carl out of Laramie's hold. Grabbing Carl's other arm, Frank pulled the older man closer to him.

The nearest they got, the more the rope began to shrink. Pulling him to the point the other man's back was resting on the younger man's chest, the rope suddenly snapped. Dropping from the lost strain, Carl and Frank immediately got to their feet.

Their danger only grew stronger. Not only did the sounds of war start blaring in the room. But blares of flesh ripping from bone could be heard a mile away.

Shaking where he stood, Frank began to back up against the wall with absolute terrified tears in his eyes. Gently grabbing his arm, Carl pulled the young man into his hold.

Desperation caused the brunette to wrap his arms around Carl tightly. The agent could only do the same as the sounds just got louder, louder, and louder. Frank screamed in fear. The agent's reaction made him wrap his arms tighter around the young man. Both by now were refusing to open their eyes.

Unplanned, a remembrance struck him. Something that Thomas said. Oh what was it? God damn it he couldn't hear over these sounds! It's like they were moving closer...Wait...Closer! God damn it, that's it! _Keep Frank close to you at all costs._

Looking down to Frank's closed eyes, he held him closer to his chest. Leaning up against the wall he next proceeded in wrapping his leg around the other man's own. Drawing him ever so closer to him. Carl even pressed his stomach to the others own. Sooner then expected the sounds began to subside mildly. But only by a measure. It appeared some sounds would weaken the most if he tightened his hold on Frank in some areas of the man's body.

The young man in speaking was just too afraid to respond to Carl's movements. He just wanted to hold back with all his might. They stood there like that for several minutes. Never breaking contact for even a moment. All of that changed as something seemed to be changing by the sounds. They were still there. However, to Carl and Frank it was all the more reason to block reality.

Right at that moment, Frank was so thankful Carl was there. No other person could be more perfect. In _any_ situation that is, if he really thought about it. Looking up, he met the agent's eyes. They were calm, concerned, and scared. All at once. He could tell that the older man wasn't wanting to admit such an emotion. For once he did sight such fear, it was gulped in the back of his eyes. That moment, it proved to the young man that Carl was going out of his way to protect him. For no explained reason at all to back himself up with. To even think of what he was going through and to still have the concern for his safety was like an award all on its own.

Suddenly the noises began to weaken and weaken. Both Carl and Frank knew they were not going to stay like that for long. So while they still could, Carl grabbed Frank's hand then ran out of the room and his house as fast as they could. Getting to Carl's car, Frank gave a nod and that was all to signal for the agent to step on the pedal.

* * *

Making it to Carl's own apartment, there were no words needed for Frank to ask to spend the night. It was more of a have to then anything else. When they reached the front door to Carl's home and the door being closed behind them, Frank turned and immediately hugged Carl tightly.

"How did you know?" Frank asked. His voice still effected by the incident. To be honest, Carl himself was too.

"Thomas told me about Laramie," Carl informed.

"Is that who that was?" Frank only then held Carl tighter. Wrapping his arms around Frank, the agent placed his head down on the young man's own head to try and comfort him.

"Come on," Carl said. After several minutes, he released his hold on Frank and began aiming his destination down the hall. "Let's get to bed. It's best if we sleep in the same room."

"Why?" Frank forwarded his brows.

Carl looked towards the young man and walked back through the short distance between them. Staring at those still fear filled eyes. "Thomas said that in order to keep Laramie away from you, we have to stick together."

"Laramie." The young man whispered. Afraid if it would trigger the ghost to come find them. "Wait. He was after me?" The criminal asked. His voice slightly raising in surprise. Carl nodded and began to walk to his room. Frank followed.

"You can barrow some of my cotton pants." Carl informed. Walking over to his closet. It took a while for him to find some pants. As he came back with a pair, Frank had already taken off his shoes and fallen asleep on the bed. Sighing from the sight, he hated to see such an impact these ghosts did even to Frank. Turning back to his closet, he grabbed what he wanted and went to the restroom to change. He later walked back to his bedroom. Doing the action quietly as to not wake the man. Sitting at his bedside, he lied down on the other side he usually doesn't sleep on. At this point he only wanted to keep Frank safe. To keep him close in eye sight. With one last took to make sure he was still there, he turned off the light.

_To Be Continued..._

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **I know this chapter was short. But I couldn't come up with a motive fast enough for the next thing that happens. At the same time I wanted to make sure you guys read this. So no worries for writer's block of any sort. I will be updating Chapter 3 as soon as I can. Bye for now. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**A WISH TOO YOUNG**

**CHAPTER 3**

**THE NEXT DAY**

That morning, Frank's eyes fluttered open. He found himself lying in his boss's bed. It was a strange feeling at first. Though the remembrance of last night began to flood into his head in a snap. Caressing the bed sheets, he began to only feel more grateful realizing why he was here. Turning on his side, he was met with the sight of the man in speaking still asleep. The image that was revealed to the young man's eyes only made him catch his breath.

Carl was lying on his back while his head faced Frank's direction. One arm of his had snaked under the pillow. He was wearing no shirt. Which showed a clear view of his chest. The pubic hairline lining down from his navel passed his cotton pants only caused Frank to look back up to his boss with a blush. It was strange seeing his boss this way. Even how his hair was free from any products and tossed about from sleep. Including the appearance of his face was so peaceful. Ever since the potion, the agent didn't have to shave anymore since the whiskers never did grow back. It was only one out of the many changes that Frank was still trying to get use to.

When he first saw him dressed all in white and younger then ever, it was only hard to admit to himself that he was now uncomfortable around his boss because suddenly every time he saw the man made him feel different. Like unnamed emotions or physical reactions started to rise. Such as staring at him for more then was needed or noticing the sent of the air every time he was around.

To what Frank did admit to himself was he began to like Carl more since it all started. It was almost like their roles were switched. Now it was his turn to help the agent. Let him know what was right or wrong. Sometimes he wondered if Carl was a child himself now. Scared shitless in this new life of his. Trying to look for a way back to normal but no key to the door was given. Yet those were only two examples. The rest seemed out numbered.

Looking away from his boss, he decided to get out of bed. He could have sworn being attached to each other for too long could grow unhealthy. Getting up from the mattress as slowly as possible, he went straight for the hall way. When he got to the living room, he froze. Right in the middle of the living room was a ghost. Luckily it wasn't Laramie. The presence of Thomas made him feel immediately edged.

"Oh, hello. You must be Frank." Thomas greeted.

"And you are...Thomas." The young man stated. Looking back at him warningly.

"That I am. Last I checked." The ghost replied. Ignoring the tone of the young man's voice.

"Why are you here?" The brunette immediately asked.

Eying Frank, Thomas pressed his lips together in irritation. "Does everyone have to be so agitated when they see me?"

"I wouldn't blame them. That other ghost tried to kill me." He remarked. Still standing in the edge of the hall way.

"Which is why I'm here," Thomas informed. Ignoring Frank's _tolerance_ all together. "There's something I need to tell you personally. Carl can't know or it will get him into danger." Forwarding his brows, Frank eyed the ghost questionably. Walking nearer to where the young man stood, Frank stood up straighter.

"Now I know there has been some _set backs _to the possible explanations to why I have chosen your boss to have the potion." The ghost admitted. Now looking at the blank walls. "But in the amount of time, it's only better for us to keep the information far in the long run."

"What do you plan to do?" Frank asked. Eying the ghost with both fear and sudden anger.

Looking back to the young man, Thomas allowed the silence to stretch. "It's not what we plan. It's what we wait to see. You, Carl, all of us are all on the same side of this mysterious door together. So there really is no visible answer."

"Why is your friend doing this? What is he planning?" Frank mildly gritted out.

"Okay," Thomas stated. Suddenly zooming up to stand right by the young man. "A few things to remember. _1: _Since he doesn't have a brain anymore I can't read it! _2: _That's why I'm here to ask a few questions to what happened! But since you're doing the Q&A I have no choice but to wait! Last but not least _3: _I have to inform you that Laramie is not a forgivable man! (As you can tell!) The incident I helped tell Carl to get you away from last night has now made Laramie hungry for revenge! So I need you to start knowing what to expect yourself! The reason why your boss has to keep you close is for the bloodline! Laramie's full name is Laramie Hanratty! An ancestor of Carl! Therefore if you two stay close together that will give him a reason not to hurt you cause he obviously can't when Carl is near you!" The ghost blurted this out so fast that Frank could have sworn if he was still alive the young man would have tangled his tongue.

But as the information began to grow more clearer to his mind's eye, Frank's eyes widened. In response, Thomas nodded to make sure the young man did know he was not imagining this information.

* * *

During the rest of the morning before Carl woke, Frank informed Thomas on what happened to them yesterday. Including what has been happening for himself since he discovered Carl took the potion. It wasn't much of a surprise to learn that there would be side effects to the potion. Some included effecting the people around them by their _new sent_ and appearance. The ghost described it to be almost a love potion to show the person that there was more to life then what they believed. Never did he come across it actually effecting someone so much. As it was imagined, Thomas kept note to see what would happen to the both of them.

As both Carl and Frank were now at the FBI headquarters once again, the brunette began debating on if he should tell his boss on the facts he was told this morning. Perhaps he was just overreacting. There was no way that the attack could happen so soon in the day. The more he thought about it, he remembered that Thomas said Laramie was a trickster ghost for a reason. Whatever that reason was, he hoped it wasn't going to backfire on him.

"Frank," Carl said.

"Hm?" Frank replied. Looking up to his boss as he tried to identify the check in front of him.

"I've been calling you to my office for the past five minutes." His boss protested.

"Sorry," The young man apologized. Was he that lost in thought?

Carl frowned by his response. "Come on," The man gestured with his arm to sit up. "I need you to look at something for me." Standing from his chair, Frank walked around his desk and into the main center of the department.

"There's this new guy who has been balancing che-" Before the agent could even finish half of his sentence, the entire department jerked. Falling to the ground, Frank almost hit his chin against Mr. Amdursky's chair if it weren't for another shake of the ground.

"Earthquake!" Mr. Marsh shouted from his office's doorway. Everyone immediately getting underneath some furniture for shelter.

Looking around, this earthquake suddenly jerked only in some places so bad that now for some unusual and unexplained reason Carl was now across the room. Some of the employees were so dumbstruck to what was happening that they could only look around their surroundings as the lights began to flicker.

"Carl!" Frank yelled across the room. Watching as the man could only stare at him from lying on the ground. Out of no where, each window's blinds fell down. The next thing Frank saw was the sky outside was completely dark. Screams and shouts were waved across the room. Unknown answers began to only make matters worse as the sounds of war started to surround the place.

"Hello Frank." A deadly voice chimed. Eying the floor, Frank's eyes only grew wider as he began to suddenly realize standing right in front of him was Laramie. Everyone's attention began to swarm over the ghost and the young man. Mr. Amdursky could only stare on in shock as the ghost forced the criminal to stand up with his rope.

"Isn't it so nice to see you again?" The ghost shouted. His eyes popping out in fury only inches from the young man's face.

"Let him go." A voice warned. Looking in the direction of his voice, both Laramie and Frank saw Carl was now standing.

"Carl." Laramie snarled. Stepping ever so closer to the man as he dragged a grunting Frank along with the rope around his neck. "How. Dare. You! Disrupt! YESTERDAY!" The ghost screeched. Anger pooling off his soul.

"Shut the fuck up!" Carl shouted back. A small silence stretched the entire room as all looked on in shock. "You let him go right now."

"Or what?" Laramie icily eyed him. One could say he was glaring by now if he had the eyelids for it.

"I'll tell everyone who you are." A voice rasped. Turning his head, Laramie now stared at Frank who looked pale. "Thom-Thomas Myr-Myrtle told me your full name!" The young man gasped. Looking back at Carl, Laramie began to cackle. It was short lived as Carl made a step closer. Immediately the ghost's attention was stolen by the man in front of him.

"Carl!" Frank gasped out. "His name is Laramie-" Before the young man could even finish his sentence, he was released from the rope. Not until he was thrown against the ground right in the middle of both Laramie and Carl. Screaming from the sudden hit against the tile, Frank turned onto his side and began coughing.

The ghost laughed as he looked at the man bellow. "I never let _anyone alive _say my name!" Laramie stated.

"Then there's only one other option to get you the fuck out." Carl icily glared. Challenging the skeleton for the second time since they've met.

As they stood there for several seconds, Carl made the first move by trying to run to Frank. But suddenly he was literally thrown off by the sudden wind storm Laramie created by just lifting up his arm. Falling to the floor, Carl began to try and crawl. But the more he tried the more the wind became stronger.

Caught in the middle, Frank began to have no more need to catch his breath from the strangling rope. Lifting himself up with one arm, he looked off to see his was only a good 13 away from him. As he too began to crawl, the same exact sounds they heard back at his home began blaring into the department. Louder then they have been then ever before. Matters only became worse as the employees began to protest from the noise with their own vocals.

Crawling a good 2 feet, both men found encouragement by just looking at each other and making sure that at least they were alright as much as they could be through this chaos. Closer and closer, the ghost began to scream as suddenly the agent was able to finally grab a hold of Frank's hand. Immediately there was a shift in the wind, sounds, and lighting. Each employee instantly noticing the ghost was fidgeting.

"YOU IDIOTS! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME GO AWAY BY STAYING CLOSE!" The skeleton cackled. Crawling on top of Frank, the agent by now didn't care if his colleagues were watching this or not. It was all for their safety as well. No matter how much embarrassment this did cost.

Both Frank and Carl began to wrap their legs and arms around each other. Spreading his legs, Frank allowed the agent to lay between him. With the sent of his boss surrounding him, the young man couldn't help but smell Carl's side burn. Looking down at the young man, he looked at him questionably before out of warning Frank sealed his lips with the agent's own.

As their lips were sealed for only a couple of seconds, it began to cause several aftermaths. Embarrassment was payed precisely to his colleagues as Mr. Amdursky, Mr. Fox, and Mr. Marsh couldn't believe their eyes. Nor could they believe the reasons why they were doing it for suddenly the noises, lighting, wind, everything began to weaken out of the ghost's control by inches.

Before anyone could prosper the win, Laramie soon made everything stronger. Causing it all to become back to what it was before the two were even close to each other. Immediately both the men felt the shift. So taking Thomas's advise, he dug his hands into Carl's hair and began to sit up. Now lying over the man. This caused the kiss to break, but soon it glued back together. His boss became stiff. Feeling Frank's lips just press delicately together lit up a strange emotion. The young man just kept pressing and pressing his lips on his. Urging him to do something.

Meanwhile, if it was possible, Laramie's eyes became bigger with anger. The sounds, wind, and lighting were just barely close to being back to normal that it caused the ghost to panic.

"STOP!" He bellowed out. Only causing the two men to separate and hover their lips over each other.

"What's wrong Laramie?" Frank asked. "Never seen two men close to each other?" With the fidgeting ghost huffing in response, the young man smirked. "Or is it because Thomas told us to do this to keep you away?" Eying the skeleton from where he lied, Frank kissed Carl once more.

"DON'T!" Laramie screeched as Frank only nudged his pelvis into Carl. Causing the agent to gasp between the kiss.

"Laramie," Frank brought to his attention. "What's the reason behind Thomas telling us to stay close? Why do we have to? I mean," Frank chuckled. "Why do you freak out _especially_ if I touch Carl?" The young man glared. The ghost by now began shaking.

"ANSWER ME!" The brunette shouted.

"FUCK YOU FRANK!" The skeleton screeched. Suddenly he disappeared and all that was with him. Minutes later all began to look around at the damage done to the department. But for Frank, he could only look at the man bellow him whose anger was rising by the second. Shifting off of his boss, Carl immediately stood up from the ground acting as if nothing happened.

"Frank, I need to speak with you. Now." The man coldly demanded. As he himself stood up, he followed his boss back to his office. Closing the door, Carl immediately locked it and aimed a furious glare into Frank's own eyes.

"What was that?" The agent gritted.

"That was Laramie's work." Frank simply stated. Only angering his boss even more as he cornered him close to the wall.

"You know what I mean!" He yelled only inches from his face.

"Come on Carl! Just because I said a few things to make him go away does not mean it's true!" The young man protested.

"Not. That." He said with a stale tone. Raising an eyebrow, Frank could only stare at his boss as the man in speaking could only do the same.

"Why'd you do it?" Carl asked.

"I-" The young man gulped. Gazing into the other man's eyes, Frank could have sworn he saw something. Challenging him, he squinted his eyes. "Why?" The criminal paused. "Did you like it?" With his lips by the agent's ear, he whispered the next thing that debated the truth. "Or did you like it so much that you want to fuck me, Agent Carl Hanratty?" He whispered.

Catching Frank off guard, he banged the man against the wall and hungrily pressed his own lips against the other man's own. After several seconds, Frank kissed him back. Both having something inside them increase by the second. Never have they felt like this before. As it kept rising, Carl became more fierce. Pressing his entire body back into Frank like he was just meant to fit there.

The young man gasped as the sent of Carl intoxicated his vision. With a gasp escaping him, Carl took that as an advantage without any thought behind it to lodge his tongue into the young man's mouth. Immediately the criminal responded with an expected and joyful moan. Its presence surprising the both of them. Looking into Frank's eyes and the same man looking into Carl's own, his boss began making those same noises come out over and over again. Each one of them becoming louder.

A soft massaged battle of tongue started. Closing his eyes fully shut, Carl closed his eyes as well. Minutes past and soon their tongues turned into a breathy war.

Suddenly a knock demolished their ears. "Agent Hanratty!" Mr. Marsh called. Knocking once again. Only this time did it follow a hand fiddling with the locked doorknob.

Realization began to build as to what they were doing. Pulling away from the wall, Carl stood in the middle of his office watching how the young man he chased for several years was breathing heavily from his effect. By _his _doing. His story was no different. As his lips were especially swollen and wanting more. But his mind screamed this could never continue. He was so torn between his body's needs, his mind's screams, and the breathing of the man right in front of him that his boss didn't even have to knock three times before he stormed out of his office and right past the man in speaking.

Looking back at Carl's retreating back, Mr. Marsh could only comprehend the expression of bafflement as he then turned his head to face the inside of the agent's office.

"What was that?" The Assistant Director asked.

Frank could only scoff from the frustration that he was now in. Leaning off the wall, he exited the room. But not before looking at Mr. Marsh. "_That_," He signified with his finger to what had just exited the entire department. "Was Agent Carl Hanratty and his _wrath_." The young man stated. Looking in the direction the man went with an edged air. Just as he was about to follow the said agent, the other man grabbed a hold of his shoulder.

"Mr. Abagnale," Mr. Marsh beckoned. "What the hell is going on?" Looking at the man standing there in by his side, the brunette could only chuckle in response.

"Frank," The man warned. Holding both of his shoulders now to gain the younger man's full attention. "Who's Laramie and what else did Thomas tell you?" With no explanation, the criminal's eyes began to role in the back of his head as he was gulped into unconsciousness. Causing the Assistant Director to have to catch the man as he fell straight into his arms.

"Someone get me security!" Mr. Marsh demanded.

* * *

Walking in the middle of the hallway, Agent Carl Hanratty's breath hitched. Almost loosing his balance, a great pain stirred from within his stomach to his chest. His senses were going off like dynamites. Nothing could describe this feeling. He honestly could say that he has never felt something this strong in his life. Just the thickness alone made him have the urge to cough hysterically. Looking up, he did not realize he was bending over. Revelation roared into his mind as he saw the Janitor's Closet. Immediately he ran the short distance to it. Opening the door, he slammed it shut behind himself.

"Shit!" He breathed. Something defiantly wasn't right as just the distance triggered it to become bigger. Without warning, realization hit before panic did. Looking up at the ceiling, he closed his eyes and began to say something he hoped was going to work.

"Thomas Myrtle." He whispered. Over and over again. Not before long the ghost appeared beside him.

"What?" The ghost harshly whispered.

"What's happening? I can't breathe!" He tried to say to the ghost but all he could do was gasp.

"Slow down Carl, just tell me what you said by thought. Breathe!" Thomas assured the agent. As the ghost read the exact words he said with a few curses here and there, he looked at Carl with widened eyes.

"What?" The agent asked. Noticing this immediately.

"This wasn't suppose to happen." The ghost said with an eery tone.

"For what?" The agent coughed. Leaning up against the door. Matters only seemed to be growing more unusual as he began to sweat.

"Carl, I need you to listen to me as best as you can!" The ghost urgently said. Now only inches from his face. The older man could only respond with a cough.

"What you are experiencing is a fatal transfusion!" The ghost explained. "The potion you took is a sensitive thing within itself. Making it so the contents were trying to become stronger."

"Fuck Thomas! What are you trying to say?" Carl pleaded. Sweat now effecting his business wear.

"It fused with Frank's own DNA, Carl! Along with the man himself! He is now...Oh no...That must mean-" Before he could even finish his own words, the agent collapsed onto the ground. With the effect touching a mop, the janitor's supplies started to fall onto Carl if it weren't for the ghost's hands to not stop them from falling but of them to fall around him.

* * *

At that exact moment, Mr. Fox was walking in the hall when he heard the tumbling of supplies in the Janitor's Closet. Eying the door once again, he saw the light was on and a dark spot by the door. For a moment he decided to forget what he just saw until he heard a gasp on the other side. Walking over to it suspiciously, he opened the door to be met with some stuff falling past the door frame in the process. His eyes widened to what just who was inside the room.

"Agent Hanratty!" Mr. Fox said in surprise. "What in God's name are you-" He was cut off by the sight of the man's eyes. "Doing." The man trailed. For the taller man's irises frighteningly were a deep purple. Backing away from the door frame, he began to run back towards the department.

"I'll be right back!" He called back to the agent.

* * *

"-I don't know what's wrong! He won't wake up!" Mr. Marsh blurted out. Security guards, Mr. Amdursky, and other agents had been standing around the young man on the floor and in the Assistant Director's arms for the past 5 minutes. Running back into the department, Mr. Fox went straight over to the group.

"Mr. Marsh, sir!" He beckoned.

"What?" His boss eyed him.

"I think you need to come with me," Mr. Fox advised. "It's Agent Hanratty-"

Before Mr. Fox could have his sentence completed, a thick gasp came out the man Mr. Marsh held. What made everyone around the young man disturbed was the widened eyes of his were now a bright green.

_To Be Continued..._


	4. Chapter 4

**A WISH TOO YOUNG**

**CHAPTER 4**

**4 DAYS LATER**

**NEW YEARS EVE**

Time was left to defend for itself as everyone who was there that day at the FBI Check Fraud Department began to get Frank and Carl some help. The most important thing was to not have them seek any medical treatment. They would have to be rushed to the secret C.I.A. Headquarters in their department specially designed for Wisher attacks.

Each drastic measure was able to get them to the department in less than 2 hours. Its only problem was the more time passed, the less Frank had sanity. When the young man woke from his slumber he began shouting. With his eyes blaring now with a green the color of a lime, showed he didn't know where he was or if he should care for the safety of others around him. At some point he threw something in their direction and threatened to hurt them. For the good of their safety, they strapped him to the bed. In just one day his protests turned into desperate cries. Just 3 days later, he was lying there saying nothing. Just staring up at the ceiling with no emotion what so ever masked onto his face.

Watching the young man through the window, Mr. Marsh's gaze was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. A man with thinly framed glasses was walking inside the back room Mr. Marsh watched from to both of their rooms. After entering the room the man in a plastic lab coat closed the door behind himself.

"Evening, Mr. Marsh." The scruffy man smiled. To the Assistant Director himself, this wasn't the greatest of times to see such a gesture. "My name is Dr. Charlie Wheeler," He informed. Holding out a hand, the other man shook in greeting.

"Evening," The man mumbled. His eyes still trained through the window. "What's wrong with them?"

* * *

Awaking where he lied, the agent's purple eyes began to open. Immediately they stung by the light on the ceiling. Squeezing his eyes shut, he shook his head from the aftermath ting. Where was he? What happened? Where was Thomas? Where was Frank? Frank. Stirring on the bed, he realized he was still in his business wear so that must mean he wasn't in some place dangerous...right?

* * *

"-Now for Mr. Abagnale," Dr. Wheeler continued. "He has showed signs of delusion. Causing us to have him strapped to the bed. Possibi-"

"Wait." Mr. Marsh interrupted. Dr. Wheeler hesitated in his speech as he eyed the FBI Director in mild insult. Watching how the man's expression changed from being drawn into the conversation to subjected into some other event. Caused Dr. Wheeler to look in the same direction the man gazed in. There in the second room, Agent Hanratty began to sit up from his bed.

Dr. Wheeler's short frame tensed. "Will you excuse me Mr. Marsh?" The man didn't even wait for a reply as for suddenly he ran out of the room and into the room Carl was in.

* * *

Entering the room, the agent immediately froze.

"Who are you?" Carl immediately asked. Fright edged in his voice.

"Mr. Hanratty, I'm Doct-" The doctor tried to greet as he stepped closer into the room. Only causing the agent to suddenly back up against the wall his bed faced.

"Stay away from me!" He ordered the Doctor. Pressing a button on his wristband, both didn't have to wait long for the edgy silence to be sliced for suddenly 5 security guards entered the room. Bustling about, each one tried to grasp a hold of Carl. The more they got closer, the more he began to shout for them to back away. Catching one of his swinging arms, one of the security guards rustled him onto the bed. Immediately each guard began to battle him into a strap. Once the process was a success, Carl began to squirm in bed.

"Let me out you son of a bitch!" He shouted to the Doctor. But it was too late, suddenly the security guards and the doctor exited out of the room with the door shutting behind them.

* * *

Closing the back room door tiredly behind him, Dr. Wheeler walked back to Mr. Marsh's side. "I apologize for that disturbance Mr. Marsh. I assure you Mr. Abagnale and Agent Hanratty will be in good-"

"Contact Thomas Myrtle." Mr. Marsh glared. When the Doctor only hesitated where he stood, the FBI Director pointed at the door. "Now." He demanded warningly. Looking at Mr. Marsh's change of mood, Dr. Wheeler exited the room and did just that.

* * *

Hours past as silence still fed on time. Moving his head to look around the ceiling, Carl leaked more with sweat. He breathed heavily as he looked to the side of the wall. Just staring at the gray bricks, he felt something on the other side. Something alive. Something caged. Like he was.

"Frank." He whispered. Looking back up to the ceiling he closed his eyes and gulped from the sudden tears. "I'm so sorry kid." The agent rasped.

* * *

"Wheeler what's this all about!" Thomas angrily questioned. Demanding an explanation. "They both can't be in separate rooms, you know that!"

"Calm down." The old man requested. As he walked back to the back room door, the ghost impatiently walked through the door without Dr. Wheeler. Once he opened the door, all three began the conversation immediately.

"Thomas," Mr. Marsh instantly greeted. "Their eyes are the color of the potion. It's causing them to act like wild animals." The man stated. His vocal tone instantly telling all that he demanded an explanation.

"Yeah, I know." The ghost sarcastically replied. "That's not important right now! What's more urgent is getting them back to normal, yes?" Thomas tried to reason as he now stood by the taller man. Mr. Marsh sighed in frustration while Dr. Wheeler could only look at the both of them.

"What is it that we should do?" The Assistant Director asked tiredly.

"Well," The ghost nervously answered. "You're not going to find it very appealing. But at this rate, what is appealing?" The ghost laughed. Grabbing no one's agreement. Pulling off his own smile, the ghost cleared his throat.

"Follow me." The ghost sighed.

* * *

Staring blankly at the ceiling, Frank heard the door to his room opening. He would have looked up before hand. Yet by now the urge vanished. Causing him to only respond by closing his eyes. Grasping each side of the bed, whoever they were wheeled him out of the room.

This was it. Whatever he was going through they were going to study him. Again. He just knew it. These effects. His green eyes. He had no idea what was wrong. Their reactions towards him was like he was holding the answer but could never tell them. Making it so the treatment grew more harsher. Each hour felt like a day that passed. Each needle and strap to his limbs was like another way to shove pain into his face. Even the meals felt worthless to him. No crumb could satisfy this struggle. No bite could feed this unnamed hunger inside his entire frame. He felt empty. More empty then he has been in his entire life.

No words were passed as the wheeling of the bed stopped. He felt gloved hands grasp each strap. Unstrapping them like they were snakes. In his mind's eye they were. Muting out the sounds of the straps and retreating feet, he then began to wait for the treatment.

* * *

Lying on his bed, Carl Hanratty kept silently crying. It was the only thing he could do. All of this chaos he caused. He should have never took that potion. All of this would have never happened. Whoever Laramie was, he wanted him to go to hell. Even Thomas. This just wasn't right. Being played with like a puppets.

This place he was in right now. God he prayed for better. It appeared he had been here for a while. He wasn't certain how long. The collapse in the janitor's closet must have taken a tole on him. When he heard Mr. Fox find him, it was light he saw something. Something that changed with his appearance maybe. He had no idea what it was. But it sounded bad.

The more he thought of what actually happened that caused him to be in that room, the more he remembered Laramie. The ghost had the nerve to actually disrupt the place he worked. He had the nerve to hurt Frank. Just by that thought brought the agent to mildly scrunched his face up in a strained sob. He wasn't going to do it. He wasn't. Not here. They could be watching his every move by now.

Hearing the door open, he was proven right as something was wheeled in and his straps were released. His mind immediately morphed it all out. He knew what was going to happen. Mr. Marsh explained it well the same time he told him about Thomas being from war. They would experiment with the victims of Wishers. Like they were animals. So with whatever strength he had left, he held it by just doing what he could to strain his cries.

He was worried about Frank. So worried it made him sick. What they shared during Laramie's work was forced but different. It defiantly woke him up. Might have been the fact he hasn't had someone in 11 years. Or it could have been something else unknown to him. He just knew it was an incredible feeling. The way Frank responded was a surprise too. Never did he imagine Frank that way. He respected the man more then anyone. No matter what.

With the movement of the person leaving the room, questionably the lights were turned off. In a sense, it didn't quite matter. If eyes could bleed by pain, then his would defiantly be flooding blood because of the pain he endured from the light. It wasn't that strong before. Not at all. He remembered it just being lightly pained. At that moment it acquired to the agent that that's what changed. His eyes. Whatever it was explained it all. Opening his eyes, pain did not seep. Nor was light needed. He now could see in the dark. Eying the ceiling, he began to realize his limbs were free. Sitting up on the bed, his entire world came to halt as he saw just what else was different.

There lying with his back facing him, Frank William Abagnale Jr. was in the same room. The sob he had been trying to hold suddenly gasped out. Startled out of his thoughts, the young man slowly turned around with suspicious eyes. Lying his hand on the pillow while his body fully lied on the other side, he froze as he saw just who made that sound.

Immediately the agent and Frank got off of their beds. Urgently both men hugged each other. Tightening his hold, the young man just didn't want to let go. Instantly he had noticed the man's eyes. They were glowing of magenta. As his glimmered of lemon.

"Carl," Frank whispered over his shoulder.

With a tear dropping off his face, he held him closer. "Yes?" He sniffed.

"I'm so glad you're here." He choked out.

"I am too." The agent rasped.

"I've felt so-" The young man gulped. His face rubbing more into Carl's should as words to finish his sentence became dead.

"What's happening? Where are we?" The young man frightfully asked.

"Our DNA was trying to form with the potion." The agent choked. "Other then that I don't know where we are."

"Is that why our eyes are like this?" The young man questioned. Nodding quickly the older man pulled themselves apart just enough to see Frank's face.

It was then he realized he wanted Frank from the beginning. Not his ex wife. Not women. Not men. Frank. Was this what it all came down to? All of his questions could be answered if he leaned one way. But he knew that if he kept running, nothing would be changed or finished. So with Frank's full attention still on him, he looked at the person who just kept changing his life more and more.

"Frank," Carl began. "I'm sorry...for everything." He sniffed. "I'm even sorry for what happened in my office."

"No." The man whispered. Followed by shushes. "You're fine. You don't have to be sorry. I'm right here." He cooed. Gasping through his own cries, it was then they couldn't decide best for themselves. No matter what this was going to cost, Carl knew the man felt as empty as he was. As desperate as he was. Perhaps even more considering it sounded like he had been awake for the entire time here.

Catching the young man's attention, Carl sealed his lips with the brunette's own. Both at this point were so hopeless, so empty that this was literally the only option. The one thing that made sense. Perhaps even the only reason that would ruin them.

For that, Frank desperately kissed him back. A gasp soon past his lips. Leaving his breath to hover over Carl's skin. Grasping each others hands, the agent dipped their hands down to their sides. Allowing himself to become lost in the man in front of him. Soon the young man dug his fingers into his boss's hair. Their tongues began to battle which only caused them to press against each other closer.

At that point, what they started at the agent's office soon was continued as Carl suddenly began to untie his tie. Letting the fabric fall to the ground, Frank held the agent's neck and kissed hungrily on the other side.

It was then the older man's eyes grew wide. The brunette's tongue was so warm and wet. Just feeling it glide very slowly across his skin was torturous. Lower and lower, his mouth practically ate at the agent's body. Ripping his shirt apart like a tiger. This tremendous _tiger _only came back up to gaze at his _mate_ with darkened eyes. Suddenly the agent was backed up and pushed onto the bed he recently lied on. Adjusting so his head was aligned with the pillow, Frank immediately climbed on and lowered his body. Immediately Carl had his legs spread apart. Revealing more of his increasingly aroused cock through his pants. Taking his boss's wrists, he rubbed his clothed cock against the older man's own.

"Oh Uh!" Carl moaned and sighed.

The first noise from him. Slightly shocking the young man as the agent rubbed back. With a surprised moan, Frank nudged him back. Over and over, they humped and rocked. Back and forth, Carl's moans started to come out more. Such a silky and low tone held in his vocals caused Frank to only want to hear more. Ramming into him faster and harder, the young man was treated with that. Moan after moan, their cocks grew more stiff.

Minutes past and the agent was lost. Letting his body be rocked back and forth by the friction and strength caused his arms to lie on each side of him. Suddenly stopping, Frank dug his hand in Carl's hair as his face hovered over the man's lips that were parted and turned to the side.

"Carl Hanratty?" The young man huskily asked. Lust dripping from his mouth.

"What?" The older man replied with the same tone but more strained. Gasping for air as he was then trying to control himself by his full name being said that way.

"Do you like this?" Frank whispered. His tongue licking dangerously close to his mouth, he lined his jawline and ended near his ear lobe. Now the brunette just hovered centimeters from his ear. His lust filled breathing melting his ear.

"Frank! Please!" The agent begged. One of the other man's hands was so close to his pelvis the temptation was terrifying.

"Do you like it so much that you want to fuck me?" At this information, the older man's breath hitched. With a smirk plastered on the young man's lips, he husked out something again.

"Say Agent Hanratty? If you were able to arrest me in that hotel room, what would you have done to me? Cause when I met you, you were so hot with that gun aiming at me. I bet the handle of that gun would have felt _so good_ inside me_._"

With that said, Agent Carl Hanratty snapped. His cock so hard he could have sworn it was about to burst. Grabbing Frank's shoulders, he flipped the young man so quick onto the bed that when his head hit the pillow, Carl already was staring at him with black eyes.

"I wouldn't just fuck you with the handle. I would fuck you and allow you to fuck me. All with a pair of handcuffs around your beautiful wrists." This information literally made Frank moan longingly with shock and more lust then ever before.

Taking Carl's head into both hands, he devoured the agent's mouth. With tangled and battling tongues, the older man tore off his shirt feverishly. Next he made his hands go for his own belt. Unbuckling it so fast the buckle broke right as the belt slipped out of their loops. Without his permission, the young man pulled down the older man's pants for him. Revealing a very hard cock with a purple head and precum played out on top.

"Looks like someone is a horny agent." Frank whispered.

His eyes gulping in the sight. Making the ability to catch the young man off guard. Since the brunette wore no belt, he tugged all his bottom clothing completely off. Suddenly taking his cock in hand, Frank screamed from the sudden touch. He looked up to see a very husky smirk lied out on Carl's lips.

"Look who's talking, heated tiger." The agent stated.

Quirking an eyebrow, the young man suddenly grabbed the older man's own dick. Causing the man to curse and pant shortly afterwords.

"You playing it that way? Well bring it on hunter. I'll be your prey." Frank challenged.

Never letting go of their cocks, both began to fully strip themselves of clothing. After 5 grueling minutes, Carl released the young man's penis and removed what was left of his pants and shoes. As he watched his boss strip, Frank did the same. Only the difference was he wanted to play desperately.

Squirming under the man's hold, he began to try and _escape _from underneath him. Looking down at _the tiger, the hunter _held the man's wrists. Years of knowing Frank, Carl knew exactly what he was _plotting_.

"Oh God hunter!" Frank gasped. Trying to sound like a scared little girl but only to managed to cause himself to pant more then have a role play. Either way it effected the man in front of him as he squeezed his wrists tighter.

"What are you gonna do what that big long gun?" The young man husked out.

"Well. _My. _Heated. Tiger." The agent breathed. His lips hovering dangerously over the brunette's own. "I'm going to shove it up that hole of yours. But I wonder, is it tight?" Frank moaned by the simple tease that left such an impact.

"It is," He huskily whispered. "It's also warm and wet."

"AH!" Carl breathed. Looking deep into the eyes that were now black as well.

"Fuck me Carl!" Frank begged.

"Cause your mine?" The agent moaned. Resting a finger just near the man's puckered hole, he squeezed it passed its tightness.

"Yes!" Frank panted.

Moving the finger in and out, Frank was then lost by the sensations.

"I'm yours." He breathed.

Repeating it over and over again. Placing in another finger, the young man began moaning the agent's name. The tone in his voice showing his obvious lustful frustration.

"Frank." Carl whispered. If it was possible, fire would be inflamed in his eyes.

"Calm down." The agent ordered.

By the time he kissed Frank, both of them stilled. This time when they kissed it was passionate. They held onto it for minutes. Just letting each other know their mouths. Adding one more finger, Frank took a hold of the older man's shoulder. His eyes squeezed from the pain. Moving closer, the hunter kissed his prey. Trying to ease the pain away with no words. When that wasn't working, Carl tried to think of a way to encourage and comfort Frank but the only thing on his mind as of now was not soft and cuddly.

"Baby, it's okay," The agent cooed. Grabbing Frank's attention instantly. With a smirk on his face, he looked at the young man with soft eyes.

"Did you just call me baby?" Frank asked. His voice soft but still husk by lust. Nodding in response, Frank smirked. "I like that. You should use it more." After a few more minutes of stretching, the agent finally took his fingers out.

They looked at each other for a long time before any action was made. They couldn't believe that this was actually happening. Frank was going to take him. Carl was going to have him. Each man knew what the other was thinking. It was going to be a risk. But the more they stared at each other the more they knew they needed each other. Spreading his legs, the young man lied more on the pillow. Allowing his boss to do whatever he pleased.

Positioning himself in front of Frank's puckered hole, he waited for the young man to give him a signal to make sure he was really sure about this. With the glare in the tiger's eyes indicated greatly he was not going to have patience for long. Grasping the young man's hips, he plunged in the head of his penis.

"AH!" Frank yelled. Both from pain and the unusual feelings of Carl's dick compressing between in his muscles.

Comforting the man the best way he could Carl leaned over him more. Locking his tongue out onto one of the man's nipple. Immediately Frank moaned from the contact. Lapping and massaging his muscle against the young man's chest was worth the reward of the soft moans he would cause to release every now and then. The more he did it, the more he was able to give the tiger a distraction as he pushed in more.

"Carl." The young man gasped.

Grasping onto each of his shoulder blades. Sliding in deeper, the hunter allowed his prey to adjust the longest he could. As of speaking the brunette held onto his boss breathing heavily in the process. Wrapping his legs around the older man's waist, Frank look deep into the man's eyes and kissed him. It was the first kiss started by him. Making Carl feel absolutely on cloud nine. Such a simple gratification gave him feelings he had never felt before.

"You can start moving," Frank grunted. Holding one hand in Carl's hair. Pushing further in, Frank immediately surprisingly moaned. The most lust filled moan he has heard yet.

"Everything okay?" Carl breathed. His eyes almost rolling in the back of his head by the tightness and sounds.

"Hit that again." The tiger purred. Pounding into the spot he pleased, instantly Frank grabbed onto Carl tighter.

"Uh! Uh! Uh!" He gasped the same type of moan.

Ten Minutes went by and still Frank was uncontrollably moaning that way the entire time. His responses were almost like a rhythm as the hunter kept hitting that spot inside him. With sweat now drizzling their bodies, Frank kissed his boss again.

"Harder. Faster." He icily ordered with a moan.

The harshness though was unheard by the agent. He was so lost in the man that hearing those commands with that voice made him snap once again. Grabbing the criminal's dick he responded with a tortured moan. The agent began to pump his penis while pounding harder and faster. Frank was so lost by now that he began to push back and forth with the agent's rhythm. Causing the said older man to be thrown off guard. Suddenly moaning exactly and as much as Frank was. Even louder then him.

Rocking back and forth, back and forth, for the past 5 minutes both men stopped moaning. Every now and then some would pop up from their mouths. But the most important thing that caught their attention was the person right in front of them. Carl at the moment had half lidded eyes and the most sexy smirk masking his face every now and then. As for Frank, the young man's eyes were closed. While his mouth was parted. Every now and then he would lick his lips. For some time, each man couldn't believe that they were _still _doing this. Nor could they wrap around their own heads that they both were so easily attracted to each other by now.

After a good 7 minutes, Frank opened his eyes and began panting and moaning. Faster then usual. Causing the agent to look at him and part his mouth. Every so often he would lick his lips as well. Releasing the younger man's wet cock, Carl lifted the young man's legs onto his shoulders. Within the last 3 minutes, the hunter pounded even faster and harder then he had since they started. Immediately those pants were drowned out by moans which turned into very loud ones. Three minutes later, Frank yelled Carl's name while the agent shouted the young man's own.

Cum came bursting from the both of them. So much cum it was a surprise that the release ended after a few seconds. With his eyes closed and his head falling onto his prey's chest, each man didn't mind the cum that was now on their stomachs and privates. Releasing his hold around the agent's neck, Frank began to pet Carl's sweat soaked hair while both of them now were catching their breath. Closing his eyes, the next thing Frank realized when he opened them again was the darkness of the room.

"Carl," Frank tiredly asked.

"Hm." The agent hummed. Enjoying the softness and sent of Frank's skin.

"I think our eyes are back." As his response, Carl opened his own eyes up and sat up just enough to look at Frank.

That was indeed correct. But since the lights were off he couldn't see the man. So taking his lips, he made sure the man knew his happiness. It was the softest most passionate kiss they had. Something even Carl was not expecting. Resting his forehead on the young man's own he never believed he was going to say these words twice in his lifetime.

"I love you." Carl softly said. With that said, Frank's breath hitched. There was a short pause that silence filled but once the young man kissed him again. Carl relaxed from the fear rising in his chest.

"I love you." Frank mimicked.

* * *

Just inside the back room, Thomas Myrtle sat on the single chair that was in the room. Watching intently on what was going on. As he saw them both kiss right after the lustful frenzy, that was when he smiled. This wasn't exactly what he was trying to find. But any type of change was what he was expecting. Looking at the clock, he realized the clock struck New Years seconds ago. Which meant they must have both kissed right on New Years.

"Happy New Year Carl & Frank." Thomas proudly clarified. "Okay! They're done!" The ghost shouted to the other room.

_To Be Continued..._


End file.
